


that emo-looking tracksuit (AKA Jeon Wonwoo)

by theGreatPacificGarbagePatch



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crack Treated Seriously, Not Beta Read, Other, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 07:51:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15881745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theGreatPacificGarbagePatch/pseuds/theGreatPacificGarbagePatch
Summary: Wonwoo loves his tracksuit. Soonyoung is both a hot mess and a little shit.





	that emo-looking tracksuit (AKA Jeon Wonwoo)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Felicytie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felicytie/gifts).



It started with a conversation, made in the nervous, stressful haze of caffeine that was the prelude to finals week. Wonwoo was in the middle of a 3-minute power nap, intended to replace a full six hours of rest, when he was rudely awoken by the incomprehensible muttering of his hot mess of a roommate, Soonyoung.

“Ughfuckingdamnitwhydidichoosethislyfekillmenowwhatinthefuckisthisstraightupnonsenseughiregreteveryth-”

“Shut up you fucking asshole, I still had twelve seconds of my nap left,” Wonwoo muttered with all the anger he could muster using his carefully portioned remaining energy.

Soonyoung’s head turned in his direction with a slowness reserved only for creepy dolls and for Soonyoung-s cramming for finals he should have been studying for weeks ago. One eye feebly twitched a few times before giving up as Soonyoung made a vague tortured sound. 

Wonwoo sighed as the painful cries of the dying college student was interrupted by a shrill “CHEESUBURGER JUSEYOOOO.” The time it took for his thumb to reach the home button on his phone stretched uncomfortably thin before the noise was thankfully silenced.

“Imokimokimokim-”  
“You’re not. You’re just stupid.”  
“He’s not here. I don’t live with the bane of my existence.”  
“Just shut up and study. Think about what comes after finals.”  
“OMG YESSSS. RETAIL THERAPY PLEASEEE. LET’S GO AND SPEND AWAY OUR STRESS AFTER FINALS. Minghao told me about the huge sale they have at that athleisure store that’s closing down. I totally need more workout clothes.”  
“You don’t even workout.”  
“It’s what’s on trend ok, Ming-”  
“Yeah, yeah Minghao told you cause you’re an uncultured fashionista who needs the help of someone who’s actually cool so you can try to be.”  
“Excuse me, like you’re any better, Mr. Borderline Emo.”  
“At least I don’t try to be something I’m not. And you know you only have four more hours to cram, right?”

An inhuman shriek escaped Soonyoung’s mouth as his bloodshot eyes returned to his textbook. Wonwoo reset his alarm and settled back into the couch to catch up on his missing twelve seconds.

 

A week later, Wonwoo found himself the new owner of multiple new articles of clothing, including a few sinfully soft sweaters, a new pair of round glasses, and a trendy red and black tracksuit. Unfortunately, it was a matching pair with one that Soonyoung also picked out, but it just so happened that their crippled fashion senses both landed on the same tracksuit and refused to give in.  
It was a bit strange. Wonwoo had just been aimlessly browsing through the store, when a flash of red caught the corner of his eye. It hadn’t even been a very bright red. In fact, it was an aggressively normal red. The tracksuit had just seemed to draw him in, almost like it was pulling him in by a red string of fate. As soon as he had tried the set on in the fitting room, he was gone. He knew that this was it. This was the tracksuit that would take its rightful place as his favorite item of clothing in the foreseeable future. It was just so comfortable! So stylish! So practical! He had strutted out of the store feeling on top of the world, wearing the tracksuit with the tag still attached.

Wonwoo’s entire second quarter was spent with his tracksuit. If he wasn’t wearing it, it was in his backpack. If it wasn’t in his backpack, he was holding it. If he wasn’t holding it, it was in his closet, ready to be worn as he changed into his outfit of the day. His friends inevitably roasted him for his strange attachment to this bold and boring fashion statement, and as the weeks passed by and Wonwoo showed no signs of weakening in his love, it became an accepted quirk of his. Wonwoo went from that emo-looking kid to that emo-looking tracksuit. And he embraced his new self. 

 

The Incident arrived like an unwelcome early period on a completely innocent Tuesday in the beginning of Spring quarter. A day where nothing out of the norm was expected to occur. Until something did.

Wonwoo.  
LOST.  
his.  
TRACKSUIT.

He tore through his apartment, retraced his steps from his routine over the past week, and fought through the despair that threatened to overwhelm him with every second that passed by without the red and black garment that had come to be an essential part of him. Of Wonwoo himself.

At a certain point, he was forced to confront the possibility that it was gone forever. He retreated into a corner of the couch with three bottles of soju and an empty look in his eyes.

“It’s gone. And it’s just a tracksuit. There are more tracksuits out there, waiting for you to try on.” Soonyoung tried to use some tough love to punch the truth into the shell that was now Wonwoo.  
“It’s not the same. You wouldn’t understand,” Wonwoo muttered soullessly.  
“Yeah, I don’t. Cause normally I’m the stupid one, but you’re really acting like an idiot right now. You do know how stupid you sound, right? ‘I’m so sad, no one understands me, I’m acting like the world has ended because I’ve lost a stupid tracksuit.’”  
“...I don’t know. In my head, I know it’s stupid. I just can’t help it. And I can’t even go back and buy it again cause the store’s closed down.”  
“Wait a second. I almost forgot! I HAVE THE SAME ONE! REMEMBER, WE BOUGHT THEM TOGETHER?! I never took it out cause I didn’t want to match you, so I was waiting for a day when you wouldn’t wear yours, and that never came so it was just rotting away in my closet! Just gimme a sec,” Soonyoung ran to his room, rummaged through his clothes pile, and pulled out a familiar red tracksuit with black stripes. Soonyoung could hear the choir of angels singing a song of salvation as he re-entered the living room to bestow this savior onto his weird-ass roommate.

Wonwoo lifted his eyes from his soju bottle and as they caught sight of that red and black beauty, they filled with tears of relief. His hands made desperate grabbing motions as he saw the tracksuit approaching him in slow-motion. A few seconds later, he became a bit confused as to why it hadn’t reached him yet. He looked up and saw the smile on Soonyoung’s face, stretched into the unnatural grin of the Joker. 

“Wow. I have something you want. I think I get why you’re so mean to me all the time. This feeling of having power over someone is pretty damn addicting,” Soonyoung smirked at Wonwoo, reveling in this reversed dynamic.  
“Name your terms, Satan,” Wonwoo growled in a subsonic voice that resonated to the Earth’s core.  
Soonyoung considered his options carefully as his eyes shifted from his desperate roommate to the deceptively innocent-looking tracksuit in his hands.

“This sounds like the beginning of a great new friendship.”


End file.
